


Knights & Fools

by longclawislightbringer (Bespectacled_Geek)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Mutual Pining, Not Beta Read, Past Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:20:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bespectacled_Geek/pseuds/longclawislightbringer
Summary: Robb conspires to set his best friend up with his sister by tasking her with picking him up from the airport.
Featuring cheesy pick-up lines.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Anonymous asked: "Modern AU where Robb is trying to get his best friend Jon and his sister Sansa together ???"
> 
> First Tumblr prompt fill! Sorry it took so long; I ended up having a really busy two weeks at work and then this kind of got away from me and ended up being nine pages long . . . and there's another oneshot set in this 'verse coming up. Hope you like it!

The filtered air in the Wintertown airport weighed on Sansa’s shoulders. She wove through the gates, her heels clicking against the tile floor, avoiding the red-faced man yelling at the travel agent behind the front desk. 

“What do you mean there are no flights to Castle Black? I’ve got to get there by tomorrow."

Sansa winced as she passed. She clutched her purse tighter. The LED sign on the opposite wall flashed new arrivals. She trekked past the whirring silver baggage claim carousels. A clock ticked above her on the wall. Sansa joined the waiting crowd gathered on the other side of the baggage claim. Snagging a seat on the bench behind in the back of the crowd, she fiddled with the hem of her skirt. She glanced at the clock above her. 6:27. She tapped her foot in rhythm. The cold air sent a shiver through her, so she pulled her cardigan closer and settled into her seat to wait. 

The muffled notes of Duran Duran’s “Hungry Like the Wolf” sounded from her purse, jolting her from her nervous state. The sound increased as Sansa removed the offending phone from her purse. The screen flashed Arya calling. Sansa sighed. 

“Hello?” she answered. 

“Where in the seven hells are you?” Arya’s voice crackled through the connection.

“I’m picking Jon up from the airport.” Sansa took the mirror from her purse to check her makeup. 

“What?” Arya shouted. “Why didn’t Robb ask me?” Satisfied, Sansa clicked her compact shut. 

“He said he did when he asked me this afternoon. Said you had a soccer game.” She dropped the compact back into her purse. 

“That cheeky little bastard . . .” The line went silent for a moment. Muffled whispers came from the other end, but Sansa failed to decipher anything from them. The din of airport chatter quieted as the intercom crackled to life. 

“Flight 279 from Meereen now arriving.” Sansa shot up in her seat. She smoothed her skirt and checked her nails. 

“Arya, you still there?” 

“Oh gods,” Arya chuckled. “Robb wants you to take Jon to the Wintertown Diner instead of straight home."

“What?” Sansa muttered into her phone, ignoring the glances of the little boy next to her. “Is he home?”  She craned her neck to scan the crowd. “He’s supposed to be at the hospital--” Her breath hitched when she spotted Jon walking to the baggage carousel, the sleeves of his black shirt pushed up to his elbows. "—with Jeyne. Jon's here; I'm going to have to call you back." Her voice sounded stilted. Arya chortled again as Sansa hung up. She dropped her phone back into its pocket in a daze as she leaped from the bench.

Jon stood still, searching the baggage whizzing by for his luggage.

He had let his hair grow out since she last saw him three years ago, but the sight of him took her back to high school, when Margaery and Sansa's other friends always tittered in huddle at her locker, twirling their hair and batting their eyelashes whenever Robb or one of his "hot, older friends" dropped by to speak with Sansa. Sansa had laughed at them—she never understood the appeal of Theon Greyjoy, the boy of a thousand dirty jokes, and especially not Jon, who could be considered handsome if he wasn't so melancholy all the time. Besides, they wouldn't find her brother's friends so attractive if they had seen them wrestling in the mud when they were six. Girls still asked Sansa for his number even after he graduated, but Sansa supposed she had the last laugh when Jon showed up to her senior prom as her knight in shining armor. Marge had spit out her punch.

Sansa caught a glimpse of his face as he reached for a large navy suitcase. No longer the scrawny scholarship boy in the ratty Cassel Academy blazer two sizes too big that Robb had dragged to their house after the first day of kindergarten, Jon had filled out even more since his first summer home from Castle Black University, he had let his wild, dark curls and trimmed beard grow out to frame his sculpted marble face. Sansa cursed herself for reacting like a teenager with a first crush. A coil formed in her stomach as she stalked toward him. Each leaden step brought her closer.  

Jon turned from the carousel, frowning at his phone.

“Jon!” Sansa waved. Her mouth felt dry. 

His pretty face twisted into an indecipherable expression when he noticed her waiting on the side. She clutched her purse tightly.

“Sansa?” Jon faltered. He rolled his suitcase over. “What are you doing here?” 

“Robb had to take Jeyne to visit her father in the hospital,” she squeaked, a faint blush spreading through her cheeks. “He asked me to come get you. Ta-da, here I am. Come on; I parked this way.” She gestured down the hall and walked at a brisk pace through the thinning crowd without checking to make sure he followed her. 

“I know that Robb couldn’t get me.” Jon fell into step beside her, the wheels on his suitcase clacking across the floor. “He just texted me, but he didn’t say anything about sending someone to get me. I was just about to call a taxi.” 

“Well, I’m here, so let’s go.” 

“I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful.” The butterflies in her stomach danced when he grabbed her hand to stop her. She whirled, heart racing. “Thanks. You didn’t have to come.” 

“It’s no trouble,” she deflected. Sansa supposed this had been a long time coming—she had called him more and more to talk after she told him about her decision to transfer to Castle Black. She pulled her hand away, reminding herself that Jon had a girlfriend back in Mole's Town. The airport doors whooshed open behind her. “It’s not like I had anything important to do.” She strolled through the doors as Jon chuckled. His suitcase wheels caught on the door jam before rolling onto the concrete. 

“I swear I wasn’t.” Sansa fished through her purse for her keys while she hunted for her car. “Just reading.” 

“Let me guess. Florian & Jonquil for the thousandth time?” The corners of his crinkled up when he sniggered. 

Sansa smacked him on the arm, connecting with the hard muscle under his shirt. "Hey, Florian & Jonquil is the greatest love story of our time. Show some respect." She unlocked her car, hopping into the driver's seat and throwing her purse in the back. Jon slammed the trunk closed after he placed his luggage inside. He opened the passenger door.

“Apologies, my lady.” He bowed before sliding in behind her. “I’m only a fool. Sweet Lady, all men are fools, and all men are knights, where women are concerned.” 

“I can’t believe you still remember that.” She turned the key in the ignition as a warm flush crept over her. The engine sputtered to life before slipping into a rumbling purr. 

“How could I forget?” He grinned. She glanced at the rearview mirror before backing out of her spot. “You made me Florian the Fool every time we decided to played knights."

“Well, my choice lay between you, my brother and Theon, so you can see that for a six-year-old, I had very sound reasoning.” Sansa’s phone pinged as she shifted gears. “Robb wants us to meet him for dinner at the diner. Is that alright with you? You’re not too tired. 

Jon’s stomach grumbled. “I’m actually really hungry. I’ll let him know we’re on our way.” Sansa swerved out of the parking lot, avoiding the pedestrians who couldn’t seem to find a crosswalk when there was one twenty feet in front of them. 

Jon drummed his fingers along the hollow of the passenger door. They sank into a companionable silence as Sansa pulled onto the highway. He looked out the window at the darkening skyline. While Sansa had waited for his late flight to arrive, the sun sank below the horizon, creating a beautiful violet outline against the trees. Sansa avoided him, focusing instead on the stars peeking out from beyond the silhouetted evergreens. They always astounded her. In King’s Landing and at the Eyrie, the yellow light of the street lamps and the colorful neon lights had blocked out the light from the stars.

“How’s Ygritte?” Sansa stuttered, trying to maintain a semblance of normalcy, and reminding herself that she had no right to daydream about Jon Snow’s smile, no matter how weak it made her knees.

“What?” Jon spluttered. “We broke up.”

 Sansa realized with a start that he hadn’t looked out the window for a while—he’d been staring at her. 

“I’m sorry,” Sansa replied while she turned on her blinker to take the exit to Wintertown. “I didn’t know.” 

“Don’t be. She thought I was in love with someone else.” 

The lights of Main Street covered the stars as Sansa parked in the public lot next to Godswood Park, a ten-minute walk to the diner. 

“Were you?” Her car sputtered off and the headlights dimmed. Sansa unbuckled herself and grabbed her purse from the backseat.

Jon paused, eyebrows furrowing. He slumped into the passenger chair. 

“I don’t know.” 

“I hope you figure it out,” she wavered. “Whoever she is, she deserves to know."

Silence blanketed them once more as they exited the vehicle into the chilled night air. 

* * *

"There are my two favorite people!” Robb raised a glass as Sansa slid into the weathered booth across from her brother. The cracks in the leather upholstery scratched. Jeyne smacked him on the arm. “Correction: my favorite people after my lovely girlfriend.” Jon slipped in beside Sansa, squeezing so close she could feel his radiating heat. 

“How is your aunt?” Robb asked Jon, startling Sansa from her reverie. Their hands brushed as she grabbed the other menu in front of Jon. She perused the menu in silence. 

“It feels weird to even call her that.” Jon picked up his menu. “Dany’s the same age as me, you know."

Robb laughed, swinging an arm around Jeyne. “Is she still dating that horse jockey?” 

“No, she’s focused on herself for now, but when I got to Meereen she was seeing some MMA fighter instead.” 

“Sansa broke up with her boyfriend too.” Jeyne put in, wiggling her eyebrows at Robb. Sansa froze, a deer in the headlights. “I guess all three of you have a lot in common now."

“Yep, single and ready to mingle; that’s me,” Sansa grumbled, hiding behind her menu. 

“But I thought—“ Jon started. 

“Harry was a jerk,” Sansa cut him off. 

“Well . . . I’ve got to go the bathroom.” Robb sent a pointed look to Jane before dashing away from the table like it was on fire. 

“Me too!” She shouted after a moment. 

“That was weird,” Jon remarked, flipping the menu pages. “I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.” 

“It’s alright,” she said, but it wasn’t. Sansa waited for Robb and Jeyne to get back and cut the tension between them, but no respite came.

* * *

“I can’t believe he ditched us at the diner, after all that effort to get us there,” Sansa complained, bumping into Jon’s shoulder as they strolled through Godswood Park at twilight to get back to Sansa’s car after dinner.

Jon laughed. “Him I can believe, but Jeyne too? And right after they both went to the restroom. It’s almost like they were planning something,” Jon joked, hands in his jean pockets. He picked a pebble off the sidewalk into the underbrush near the Weirwood tree. In the yellow gleam of the street lamps, his curls glowed like an angelic halo. He was so close, she could reach out and touch him . . .

 "Oh Gods," she gasped, and stopped short, gears whirring. Her breath left. All of Robb's jokes, his little smiles; for gods' sake he had mentioned Jon at every opportunity for the past few months. She felt like a fool. 

“Sansa, what is it?” Jon placed a comforting hand on her arm. “Are you alright?” 

“They’re trying to set us up.” 

“What?” 

She turned to him. “Robb and Jeyne. They’ve been dropping hints for months—even before I broke up with Harry. Subtlety, thy name is Robb,” she muttered. 

Jon stayed silent for a long time. She shifted her weight back and forth, looking anywhere but his face until he finally spoke.

“Would that be such a bad thing?” he whispered. 

"What?" Sansa flushed to the tips of her ears and tucked a stray strand of hair behind one. "No. But you don't have feelings for me, and you just broke up with—"

“—She thought I was in love with you, Sansa!” He exploded. 

“What?”  

Jon pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ygritte thought I was in love with you.” 

“Why would she think that?” Sansa frowned. 

“She heard us on the phone,” Jon admitted. “And she saw the picture—the one from Prom. You remember?” 

“Smile!” The photographer had exclaimed. Sansa had blinked as the shutter flashed. Her slightly too small silver pumps dug into her heels as she shifted her weight against Jon, her last-minute date. The photographer checked the photo on his nearby computer. “Sorry, dear. You blinked. Let’s try another.” Music drifted from the hotel’s ballroom down the corridor. Sansa scratched at the winter rose corsage on her wrist. Her midnight blue ballgown pinched her chest, she’d shown up to the Prom with her brother’s best friend in a borrowed tux, and the hairstylist had used far too much hairspray on her elegant updo, but Sansa smiled with thin lips for the camera. 

 “Look who showed up,” Joffrey crowed as he exited the ballroom and spotted Sansa at the photographer’s booth. He sauntered past them to the punch table, grabbing two glasses and heading back to the ballroom. Sansa’s smile fell. Jon held up and hand to the photographer and swung her around.

“Joff’s an idiot.”

Sansa sniffled.

"You remember when he fancied himself a great fencer, so we set Arya on him? She had him crying on the floor in less than a minute."

Giggling, Sansa wiped at the tears gathering in her eyes. “That was pretty funny.”

“I bet he was the kind of guy that used cheesy pick-up lines and thought they worked.”

“You’re right—he did."

Jon slouched, curling his mouth into a sneering impression of Joffrey. “Hey baby, do you believe in love at first sight, or should I walk by again?”

Sansa chuckled.

“Are you my appendix? Because I have a funny feeling in my stomach that makes me feel like I should take you out?”

Tears had welled in Sansa’s eyes again, this time from laughter. She had chortled so hard that she had almost lost herself. She had clutched Jon’s shoulder to steady herself, still laughing, the shutter had snapped, capturing the moment for all eternity.

Sansa nodded.

"We had a big fight when she saw it on my nightstand—I tried to explain that we were friends, that I took you to Prom because your stupid asshole of an ex-boyfriend broke with you the week before the dance, but she wouldn't listen. She accused me of only asking her out because she had red hair like you because anyone with eyes could see that I was in love with you." He sighed, running a hand through his perfect curls and stepping back to give her space.

 Sansa froze, a deer in the headlights. “Was she right?” she whispered. 

 “Maybe.” He gave her a sheepish smile before focusing on the ground at his feet. 

 Sansa blanked for a moment as she processed his admission before the autopilot switched on.She launched herself at him, grabbing him below the ears and pulling him close. She closed her eyes, smiling against his lips and tangling herself in his hair. He tasted of strawberries and maple syrup. Sansa gasped when his tongue darted between her lips. She ground against his hips when he slipped a hand under her shirt and kneaded the sensitive skin between her shoulder blades. She moved a hand to his broad shoulders, twisting his smooth cotton shirt in her fist. 

She short-circuited when she ran out of breath. Dazed, she broke the kiss, taking in large gulps of air. Her cherry lipstick had smeared across his lips. Jon thumbed the corner of her mouth, wiping off the lipstick mirrored on herself. 

“What just happened?” He wiped his lipstick stained hand on his jeans. Sansa played with one of his curls, twisting it flirtatiously. 

“Maybe I feel the same way . . . maybe I’ve felt that way for a long time.” She caressed his stubbly cheek. “Florian is right—we are all fools in love.” 

Jon smiled. "We should probably get back to the house now." He snatched her hand out of the air and pulled her along. She leaned into him when he whispered, “Robb’s never going to let us hear the end of this.”  


End file.
